A Heart of Stone Still Beats
by KhaleesiEatTheRude
Summary: Deep down, she's still Catelyn. And this time he won't let her go. Petyr/Lady Stoneheart


I've wanted to write some Petyr/Cat for a really long time and finally I found my inspiration! This is not exactly the sort of Petyr/Cat story I wanted to write, but I think it's better than something fluffy and romantic.

I took two graphics from sansasnark on tumblr ( : / / sansasnark . tumblr )

* * *

The first time he saw her, he did not know know how to react to the sight. Her alabaster skin, her beautiful skin, had taken on the yellowish cast of curdled milk. The smell of rot clung to her, a smell that never left. She was dead, after all. He didn't want to believe it, but it was the truth.

He talked to her. He stroked her arm. She did nothing. It seemed that she did not even feel his touch. She was indeed Lady Stoneheart.

That was just his luck. He was reunited with Catelyn, his dear Cat, his lifelong love; and yet she could not even speak. In a moment of blind rage, he gripped her scarf and tightened it around her. She did not even flinch. There was no breath left in her for him to choke out. She had died at the notorious Red Wedding.

"Say something", he demanded.

She did not. Instead, she raised her arms in order to wrap them around his own throat. Petyr was still very much alive, so she was choking him. Although it was hard for him to breathe, he held on to the scarf as though for dear life.

"Please, Cat", he said weakly.

For a moment her face remained exactly the same, a mask of death and indifference, a horrific figure. Then, she let go of him and looed as if she recognised him. As he pulled at the scarf tighter and tighter, he began to make out the words in her hiss. He smiled, satisfied at the lucky turn of events, and tied the scarf around her throat, keeping the wound of her neck closed.

"Now we can talk, dear Cat."

* * *

She cannot speak properly, but she can speak. That is enough for Petyr.

He speaks for hours. She never sleeps, so he does not sleep either. He talks to her, reminding her of all the adventures of their shared childhood. He expresses his never dying love to her. He discusses their good moments. He does not speak of her husband, but oft times he speaks of lovely Sansa. She reacts to nothing. She looks deeply into his eyes, but she says nothing. She is like a statue almost. As if she is made of solid ice.

She has a long list, a list of people she has yet to kill. he has heard the stories; he knows that she has ordered the death of innocents. Cat would never do such a thing. But is she Cat now? Is she truly?

Deep down she is. She is a Tully to the bone; family mean the world to her. _Family, Duty, Honour_. Her family have been destroyed, burned, murdered, vanquished. Now she shall have her vengeance. She shall destroy those who have destroyed her family.

When he thinks that way, he sees Catelyn in her.

"What are you thinking about, Cat?" he asks and strokes her hand for a few heartbeats. Some other time, when they were kids, she would have giggled and slapped his hand playfully. Now she does nothing.

"Ssssssso many", she hisses like a snake.

He knows for a certainty that she means the Freys. Together they have killed so many, but there are still so many left. That damn Walder Frey has so many offsprings - sons, daughters, grandsons, granddaughters, great-grandsons and great-granddaughters - that they still have a long way ahead.

"I know, I know", he agrees. "We need something bigger. If we keep killing them in ones and twos, we'll still be at it when the next winter comes."

He moves behind her, leaning down to kiss her throat. The skin does not feel the same anymore, but she is still Cat. She is still the woamn he has loved since he was a mere boy.

He takes a brush in his hand and looks at it for a while as if it is some object of great value. He cannot believe that she is there with him. It is not the way he has dreamt of, but it is something. It is better than nothing. If that is the way he can have her, then so be it.

He works the brush through the brittle remains of her hair. He imagines that he is combing waves and more waves of auburn hair. "I used to do this for you when we were children", he says. "Do you remember?"

"Yessssss", is the only thing she tells him while his imagination is running wild like a direwolf. He remembers how she taught him to braid her hair. She remembers that he did that for her almost every night, until Brandon Stark ruined his life.

"Do you remember how happy we were at Riverrun?" he asks her. He knows he is pushing her, but he has to make her remember. "We were laughing, we were dancing, we were kissing. Nothing mattered then. Do you remember that time I ate all those mud pies and got sick? You destroyed me from such young age, and yet I did not stop loving you. Never, Cat."

She does not answer, but he will not allow that to discourage him, to stop. Somewhere deep inside of her she still is his lovely Cat. He will find the best maesters. And if they can do nothing for her, there are other ways. Everyone has heard of Stannis's witch, the red woman. He will take Catelyn to her if he has to. He will do anything for her.

He eases himself beside her and laces their fingers together carefully. Her skin is cold, the skin of a corpse. He does not let that stop him either. Not now that he has her. He remembers when they held hands like that when they were little. She let him in her chamber. They sat on her bed talking for hours. They held hands, they kissed; Petyr was living in bliss. He was not the notorious Littlefinger at the time. He was just small Petyr, Catelyn's friend, Lord Tully's ward. He did not even know about the game of thrones at the time.

And now it seemed that he was losing it. After Robert Arryn's death, Sandor Clegane took Sansa away. Now he slept in a dark room. Catelyn has never complained about it; it seems that the dark cannot touch her either.

Catelyn, Lady Stoneheart, looks down at their fingers. He feels a gentle squeeze on his hand. She does not smile to him, but he thinks that maybe she is slowly becoming Catelyn Tully again. He does not smile either. He had money, he had power, but now he has lost it all. If he lets himself believe that he truly has her at last, he might lose her. And he cannot bear it. He has lost two of the things he wanted. He cannot lose her too. Not again.

"I love you, Cat", he sighs; it sounds like a prayer.

he knows that there is a cure for her out there. There must be. And he shall find it, no matter what. He knows that as long as he keeps killing Freys, she will stay with him. If all she wants are Frey corpses, then what is what she shall have.

"Petyrrrrrrr", she rasps. From her lips, his name sounds like magic. It is the sweetest song there is.

"I am here", he tells her. "I will always be here, I promise."

He places her hand on his lips and kisses it gently, as if she might break at the merest of touch. She slowly raises her other hand and strokes his cheek. He shivers - not because he is repulsed, but because the merest of touch breaks his heart and takes his breath away.

"Wildfire", he announces suddenly. "We can use wildfire."

She squeezes his hand, and this time he allows himself to smile. He will do anything for her, because she is still his Cat.

* * *

I don't really know what to make of this. You might think that Petyr is OOC, but hey, the man's lost everything. All he has is Cat - and she's Lady Stoneheart now.

I am really nervous about this. Reviews are very much appreciated, as always.


End file.
